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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29951532">The Fat Housewives of Universe 7</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AVeryFluffyHat/pseuds/AVeryFluffyHat'>AVeryFluffyHat</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dragon Ball</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Immobility, Reality TV, Weight Gain</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 00:48:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,564</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29951532</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AVeryFluffyHat/pseuds/AVeryFluffyHat</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Whis has found a new show he has taken a liking to. And as he watches, we see what has become of the wives of the Z-Fighters.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Fat Housewives of Universe 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Whis hummed to himself as he sat down on a couch made of stone and grass with a bowl of popcorn in his lap, smiling as he moved a TV he had taken with him during their last trip to Earth in front of him. With a small humming, he readied the remote and turned it on.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>On the screen were a few beautiful, scenic shots of Universe 7's Earth. Peaceful forests. Bustling cities. Sandy beaches. Until finally, the camera rested on a rather large woman in a green tank top that acted more like a bra, leaving her belly apron exposed to hang over the waistband of her and uncomfortable looking khaki shorts. Behind her stood the massive main Capsule Corporation building. She took a moment to adjust the red ribbon in her hair before looking over her shoulder. "We got pepper in standby?" The camera slowly moved up and down as if to nod. "Alright." The woman took a deep breath and spun around. "Good evening channel 7! My name is Launch, and you're watching the one show everyone pays their TV license for! This is the Fat Housewives of- AH!" A beam of yellow light was thrown at her feet and made her jump, causing the camera to pivot up to a second floor window, where a purple haired boy in a green t-shirt was already yelling at them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Mom! We have trespassers again! Do you want me to show them out!?" He yelled into the house as the front door to the main building opened, revealing a teal haired woman in a lab coat and black slacks. She looked tired, and despite the title of the show the blonde woman had just attempted to give, she was razor thin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"That's alright Trunks! I'll handle it!" She looked to the camera crew and smiled. "You're both with the show right? Well, please come in." The pair followed the apparent scientist into the home, where they immediately saw several more versions of the same woman doing everything from casually cooking and cleaning the interior to measuring and writing down the dimensions of the hallways while wearing hardhats. "Sorry the place is such a mess. We're having some renovations done." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Right. Well mind telling the people at home just who you are?" The woman in frame nodded. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"My name is Bulma Briefs, president of Capsule Corp. and its subsidiaries. But you don't wanna know about that. You wanna know why I'm on a show called Fat Housewives while looking like I haven't touched food in the last 30 years. Well, keep following me." They ventured deeper into the facility, past more clones that were now aggressively punching sandbags while others wrote unknown figures into notepads. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Personally, I'd like to know why there's so many of you," the camera man said curiously as Launch snapped back at him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Larry! That's not what we're-"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No. It's alright. A lot of people have been curious about that for a while." Bulma smiled as she opened a closet door to reveal a massive factory, mass producing metallic skeletons that were fitted with synthetic skin and hair. "After Cell was defeated, I started to consider the fact that, hey, we only have so many forces defending the Earth at any given time, with half of them dead usually. We needed an army. So I got to work, using some old Red Ribbon Army plans and the limitless resources at my disposal to create an army of Android mes."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You sound like a </span>
  <b>
    <em>bleep</em>
  </b>
  <span>ing narcissist," Launch pointed out with folded arms. The scientist paused for a moment before shrugging and closing the door to the factory.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You're not entirely wrong. But I feel like it's deserved at this point. After all, do you know any other women who can communicate through an Android avatar of themselves?" The subject asked as they reached the end of the long hallway they had been walking down for about 10 minutes, met by a pair of solid wood doors. "But I think there's been enough build up." The large double doors were pushed open, revealing something that made the jaws of the interviewers drop. Before them was Bulma, or at least a blob that claimed to be her, wearing a strange pair of goggles, which her Android self climbed up the mountain of blubber to remove. She blinked for a few seconds, shook her head and smiled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Thank you number 37. That will be all." The Android nodded before walking away, leaving the three in the room alone. Launch stood there, slack-jawed at the massive mountain of naked woman before her. She was also the first to pick her jaw up off the floor and clear her throat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Alright Bulma. So, tell us, what's it like to be your size?" Launch asked as she had her camera guy get into a position where both her and the interview subject could be in frame. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh, it's pretty great, but I wouldn't recommend it for everyone. I can do it because I have the resources, as you saw on the way in. But if you can do it, I'd say go for it. This has been the best decision I've made in years." The blonde woman nodded, motioning for her camera man to circle around her to get every angle he could. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Well, how did you manage it for the aspiring gainers at home?" Bulma hummed a bit before nodding. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It's something my husband, Vegeta, the viewers might remember him from a few years back, calls the Saiyan diet. He encouraged Trunks and I to get on it too. Though, the diet is meant for fighters on planets more dense than Earth, and while those two had the benefit of abnormally high metabolisms and the benefit of brains hardwired for physical activity, I, well… all that food had to go somewhere." A passing Android gave her gargantuan belly a slap, causing her to laugh a little as it jiggled continuously. "For what it's worth, Vegeta digs it. Says I have the body of a prosperous Saiyan queen. I can only imagine what other Saiyan women looked like back before the planet was destroyed." Launch nodded before pulling a notebook from her own ample cleavage.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Wanna give the watchers at home a little insight into this Saiyan diet? Or are we gonna have to get it out of you other ways?" The host asked as she clicked a pen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I doubt the censors would be angry with any methods you decided to use," the massive scientist retorted. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"We're already showing a naked woman on national TV. I doubt that we can get in any more trouble." Bulma rolled her eyes before snapping her fat fingers. On cue, several Bulma-ndroids walked into the room and restrained the host and cameraman. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I think we're done here. Larry, was it? Do you have any more questions?" With a shaky nod, the cameraman cleared his throat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Are you afraid that these Androids could go rogue, causing a robot apocalypse and destroying human life as we know it?" He asked as one clone locked him into a full Nelson and another took his camera. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"A very well put together question, but no, they're not going to turn. They've been programmed to not hurt a fly unless I tell them to. But thank you for coming for coming. But now it is time for you two to leave." The droids began moving away, the camera remaining on the two being dragged out of the large building, the blonde struggling against their grip as the baseball cap wearing cameraman lied limp, resigned to his fate. The two were taken out the front door and carried to the front gate of the compound, where they were set down gently and brushed off by the androids before they walked away, though not before the one holding the camera handed it back and followed the rest of the crowd. Launch looked at the camera and cleared her throat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Well you heard it here first folks. Mysterious androids, Saiyan diets, and one truly staggering woman. All this and more, next week on the Fat Housewives of Earth." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As the credits began to roll, Whis smiled and sat back, thinking about what could come next before his gaze was drawn to his Sphinx Cat charge, napping in a nearby tree. "Lord Beerus, I am done if you'd like to use the television for anything." The God of Destruction let out a loud yawn as he sat up in the tree, looking down at the angel in charge of him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No, I don't think I will," he retorted before hopping to the ground and scratching behind one of his ears. "I've seen a fraction of the channels we receive, and there is nothing on them that can hold my interest." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Are you sure? Because I've heard of a channel called the, Food Network? Supposedly it might give you some ideas on what to try on our next visit to Earth." The angel smirked as he noticed those words seemed to catch the attention of the god. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What channel?" He grumbled as he caught the remote his blue skinned companion tossed to him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"237. Have fun." With that the angel disappeared, leaving the anthropomorphic sphinx cat alone in front of the TV as he watched massive burgers being made.</span>
</p>
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